


About the Wretchedness of the Self

by TheRomulanEmbassy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomulanEmbassy/pseuds/TheRomulanEmbassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisition had been infected by the denizens of Fen'Harel, so she had the whole thing amputated before it would kill the whole. It was a fitting, harmonious parallel to what he had done to her. He had infected her with his magic in the very start of the end of her old life, and then he had taken a part of her and destroyed it.</p><p>-----</p><p>Lavellan does not take Solas' revelations and the disbanding of the Inquisition well. It looked to the world as though the Lady Inquisitor didn't have anymore fight left in her. Culllen, on the other hand, having developed a great respect and also great...admiration for the Lady Inquisitor decides that it would not do for a woman such as herself to simply give up hope. So Cullen takes her to the best refuge he could think of in order to heal. Cullen takes her to his family, but even there, visions of Solas won't leave her alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forced Intervention

She began her day by cursing.

She cursed a lot, lately, and she cursed in every language that she knew - and she cursed to the elvhen pantheon, and to the Holy Maker and to the Blessed, perfectly blonde and blue - eyed Andraste.

She swore, primarily because she couldn't get her void-damned shirt on to save her life. Her own personal pride prevented her from calling for assistance, and she was half tempted to simply go outside to the hall in her undertakings.

Let the nobles be scandalised, whatever few of the remained, anyway. Skyhold was emptying out .

Soon only she would remain, and a few people here and there to keep it from falling into complete ruin.

Solas had left it to her to do as she willed with it, so naturally she had retaliated by willing the Inquisition to be disbanded.

The Inquisition had been infected by the denizens of Fen'Harel, so she had the whole thing amputated before it would kill the whole. It was a fitting, harmonious parallel to what he had done to her.

He had infected her with his magic in the very start of the end of her old life, and then he had taken a part of her and destroyed it.

Soon he would even destroy the whole world!

But for now it was her arm that was gone - she'd never hold a staff again, and it was another deep part of her, that made sure that she would never trust anyone like she had trusted him ever again.

She managed to finally get her shirt on both arms by first inserting her bad arm (she refused still to even think of it as a stump, maybe one day she would, but today was not that day) and then stretching around awkwardly until she couldget her good arm in. Now came the next trial.

The dreaded buttoning of the damned shirt. It was difficult because the buttons were small and-damn it! There it slipped again out of her now sweating hand.

A knock on her door saved the Maker's name from being taken in vain. Great, people seeing her in this sorry state was just what she needed to complete her frustration.

"Enter." She said, trying not to convey her said frustration and failing.

"Lady Lavellan, is everything alright? We were supposed to see to- oh." He stopped mid sentence as his eyes fell on her state of disarray and undress.

"Would you like me to return later?" Cullen said, as he averted his eyes.

Poor Cullen, she was angry and irritated and grouchy-but for some reason she could never behave as such with him for very long. He was just too kind and...sweet.

Cullen was sweet and considerate and kind for a shem.

He did not look like the type that would break a girl's heart. He was like a golden-haired, golden-eyed Mabari in the shape of a human man.

She had come to appreciate him over time.

She had come to speak with him and listen to him and to...trust him. Although now, after everything, she did so not blindly.

"No Cullen, it's alright...actually it's good that you are here." She clenched her hand into a tight fist.

"Would you help me?" She asked, mouth curling in displeasure and embarrassment.

"With the shirt or with your trousers? " he asked, dropping his hesitation when she expressed her need for assistance.

"Both, please." Dutifully he did up her buttons, and her laces and he fixed the collar on her coat, and he pinned her loose sleeve neatly at the elbow, without once ever lingering his eyes.

"Thank you Cullen, that will be all." She was about to turn to the pile of papers on her desk when he held her in place with a hand on her good elbow.

She froze in place.

"There is the matter of Dorian." He said, his voice dropping lower.

"Is that why you came to my quarters this early in the morning?"

"Yes," he said, "and my visit so early in the morning was not wasted, I'm glad. But I wanted to speak with you before he had left."

She looked at her elbow where his hand was touching her.

"I do not believe that my relationship with Ambassador Pavus is any of your business, Cullen."

"I consider him to be my friend as I consider you my...as I consider you to be my friend, Lavellan." She turned her eyes sharply to his.

He had never once before addressed her anything other than Inquisitor or Lady Lavellan or some other variance of an honorific since she had been assigned the title of Inquisitor by Leliana and Cassandra and what felt like the entire population of humans in Thedas.

Hearing him address jer almost informally felt like-it felt...like something she had yer to find proper words to describe.

"The man traveled with us the whole way from the Winter Palace in hopes that you would speak with him. He barely left your side the entire time of your recovery." Cullen sounded just about as frustrated as she felt.

And if he was aware the Dorian had stayed by her bedside, than that is surely what Cullen had also done, wasn't it? 

"Pavus is leaving for Tevinter today, Cullen. I have nothing left to say to him."

They had all gone, really. Sera went back to the Jenny's, Varric back to Kirkwall.

The gods only knew where Blackwall was now, in his quest to redeem all the world.

Vivienne went back to Orlais with Leliana in order to fight against the Divine's will to free the mages, and Cassandra went back to fight the Seekers back into shape.

Solas was...Solas was gone for good.

Even Cole had found love and would be leaving! Bull would be leaving the same day with his Chargers and Dorian. They would travel together for a while until they would be forced to separate nearing Tevinter.

Those two would remain together until the world ended. 

Only Josephine and Cullen and the skeleton crew of the hold remained. And with time they would also leave.

"You speak of him as if he were about to die, Lavellan."

There it was again, the feeling that came with hearing her name come from his mouth without honorifics.

"He might as well be, Cullen. Tevinter is akin to the void for us elves, don't you know? Besides, the wold will end soon."

Cullen's jaw clenched with impatience.

"You will go to meet him today and you will speak with him."

"Is that an order, Commander?" She asked hotly.

"No, but as your former advisor I am strongly recommending it." He said in a voice equally as charged.

She pulled away from him, forgetting that he was a good kind shem and remembering that she did not like it when people ordered her around.

"You cannot command me as if I were one of your recruits-"

"I can and I have!" He looked like he suppressed a cringe at the sound of his own elevated voice.

"Now that I am no longer the Commander of your troops, I no longer have to concern myself with propriety, Lavellan. I will speak my mind should I wish to."

It was not a complete lie-he was no longer a commander, she was no longer an Inquisitor. Yet,every single inch of the entirety of his essence screamed at him for his brisk manner and immense breach of conduct. Yet, he ignored it-as he had ignored for many years the swell in his chest that always arose when he saw her, and pressed on.

"This behaviour is unbecoming of you. You are strong, and brave and...not this. You are better than this."

She was at a loss. She could not formulate even a bare response for a few instances before she gathered herself.

"Clearly you are blinded by your admiration for an Inquisitor past her best."

Cullen's jaw clenched impatiently again.

"That is a lie if I've ever heard one, Lavellan." She, on the other hand, clenched her hand again.

"I will cry when he says goodbye and embarrass myself in front of him and Bull and Krem and-well, the point is that I will embarrass myself by being an emotional wretch."

Cullen dared to touch her again, he embraced her, his arms just resting lightly on her shoulders.

He felt so out ofline that he was about to heave, yet the urge to comfort her was stronger. They were friends, after all. Friends comforted each other in this manner all the time, didn't they?

She leaned into him, but only briefly.

"I know that it is difficult, seeing them leave. But I want you to know that I would not leave you. I swore loyalty to you and I meant it."

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was about to cry in front of Cullen.

"What will I do in this hold now, with the knowledge that the world is soon to end?"

Cullen held her slightly tighter.

"That is a burden that you share with me and with the Divine. It is not something you must bear alone."

She had told Cullen and Leliana because she could not keep such a thing entirely to herself, but she had not told the others because she did not want them to live with the time that they had left in fear of the end.

"Today you will speak with Dorian before he leaves, and then you will pack your things and come with me...if you want to, that is." He added the last part hastily.

"Go with you where, Cullen?"

"Away from the memories of this place, Mariana. I will take you somewhere safe."

At te sound of her first name, for a moment suspended in time, she trusted him completely just as she swore that she would never do with anyone ever again. She crushed the feeling before it got the better of her.

"Is that an order, or another suggestion?" She asked.

"It is just a request from an old friend."

 

* * *

 


	2. The Parting of Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had it been anyone else other than him she would have sent them to the void and be done with them. But this was Cullen, and she could not say no to Cullen.

She was not exactly sure how Cullen had managed to lure her out of her quarters all the way to the outside gates in order to bid Dorian and Bull farewell, but by the damned Maker-and the damned blue-eyed and blonde Andraste, and by the Creators too, he had managed to do so, and without further disagreement or difficulty. 

It was because of his eyes, maybe. She was still uncertain. It was because of his eyes and his face and because he was just so kind about it and about wanting to take care of her and all that-how did one even say no to Cullen? How could one even? 

Had it been anyone else other than him she would have sent them to the void and be done with them. But this was Cullen, and she could not say no to Cullen.

It was why she accepted when he asked her to go with him to visit his family. It was why she was now standing in front of Dorian like an idiot sulking child. 

"Cullen made me come out here," She told Dorian , "because he was afraid that if I didn't come out here and say goodbye, you'd die of a broken heart or something equally embarrassing for the both of us."

Dorian laughed and clutched mockingly a hand on his heart. 

"I was wasting away by the second," he said, "my hair was even beginning to lose its shine!" 

She did not laugh as Dorian did. She was going to miss him terribly. She loved him and she hated him for leaving. She might never see him again-in fact, she was certain of it.  
"I have a gift for you, before I leave." 

She was tempted to refuse on principle, but she let him hand her a strange locket with a crystal on it.

"Something to remember you by after you leave?" She asked.

"No no, if we were truly never going to see each other I would have gifted you with something significantly more extravagant than just a simple pendant. This has other purposes." 

He took the locket-or pendant, or whatever it was, from her hand and put it over her head so that the chain settled with a comforting weight around her neck. The crystal part of it hung low enough that it could he hidden inside her shirt should the need ever arise. 

"With this, we will be able to communicate. We'll be able to talk to one another." 

"It's magic, then?" 

"It is magic, my dear. Naturally." 

The noises of the courtyard were drowned out. She could no longer hear the barking of Cullen's Mabari, she could no longer hear any of the wagons being loaded by Bull's chargers as they laughed and joked with each other.

She couldn't even hear the usual sounds of Skyhold. 

All there was wasthe urge to cry and to embrace Dorian.   
It came to her at the most inopportune of moments.   
She didn't cry, though, and she didn't embrace him like she wanted to do.

"You're extraordinary, Dorian. You are going to save the world."   
He laughed again, quieter and more genuine than before. 

"I only follow the example that you have given me. You are my one and only friend. Never forget that." 

She would not forget that. Not even after the world ended.

"Now go!" She said to him, voice uneven, "go before sentiment gets the better of us both!"   
Dorian did the completely outrageous thing of actually hugging her. 

She did the outrageous thing and let him.  
Cullen, who had been discreetly observing them(-half afraid that Lavellan might walk away from Dorian without a proper farewell-something he was sure she would regret) turned away his gaze. 

It was not proper that he should spy on something that looked so private, even if it was common knowledge that Pavus' and Lavellan's friendship ran deep. 

How a Dalish elf (that didn't like to call herself Dalish) and a Tevinter mage (who disagreed with his homeland and wanted to redeem it) ended up being such great friends and companions, he could not tell.

All was well between the two, at least...although he could certainly understand why she was angry, and disappointed. 

The man who was her closest friend was leaving, as Solas whom she had been in love with had left, as all the others had left to go on about their way. 

He himself, on the other hand would remain to pick up the pieces. He would, of course. Because that was what friends did, even though he was certain that even after everything Lavellan would still prefer Dorian's company to his. 

He tired not to let such petty things derail him, as Dorian approached him while Lavellan went to speak with Bull.

"I hear that Mariana is going to be following you to Ferelden." Dorian said, with a certain look about him, 

"Fancy that." 

"I'm not sure if I like where this conversation is going, Pavus." Cullen looked everywhere except at Dorian. He was sure that his ears were turning red. 

Like a saving grace, Winifred bounded up to him in a flurry of golden brown and slobber, he kneeled down to pet him only to suddenly remind him that he had named his fearsome war dog Winifred only because Lavellan had suggested it.

"Nonsense, Cullen my dear man. I simply came over to make a request of you. Even if I have no right to ask anything."   
Dorian spoke much more seriously.   
Cullen paused, much to Winifred's displeasure. 

"Go ahead and ask me." 

"I want you to take care of her, Cullen. I want you to be the one to be by her side whatever may come." 

Cullen was surprised at the request-not surprised that Dorian wanted him to take care of Lavellan, but surprised because it sounded as though Dorian might know of what really transpired between Solas and Lavellan. 

"I was going to do that regardless of what you asked of me."   
He realised that he sounded harsher than he meant.

"Good, good. And I must ask another thing of you." 

"What would that be, Pavus?" 

"If you care for her...if you care for her beyond friendship, tell her." 

Dorian dipped down to his level, pretending to have done so to pet the Mabari.

"Everyone knows that you do, except maybe for yourself and her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while listening to Billy Boyd's 'The Last Goodbye'. 
> 
> Can you tell? 
> 
> As always typo warning. Still writing this on my phone and all.


	3. Where to Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wondered if the visions would cease now that she was leaving the hold.

He watched the retinue depart with Lavellan. He was glad that she seemed more at peace with Dorian's departure.

"I take it that that went well, then?" Lavellan shrugged.

"He still went, though." Lavellan turned to look at the empty courtyard.

"I don't think I'll see him in person ever again, Cullen." She placed her hand absentmindedly on her bad arm.

"At least he has Bull...as for me..." her hand touched his only slightly, "and I have your friendship to comfort me till we all die out in a blaze of green fire! You really got the short end, Cullen. You're stuck with the wettest blanket in all of Thedas!"

Cullen laughed, it was difficult not to.

"At least you know yourself, Lavellan. That is half the battle." He gestured toward the tavern, and she followed him.

"There are worse things, you know." He said as they walked.

"Worse things than what?" She asked. "There are worse things than spending the last few remaining days-or months or however much time we have left with the wettest blanket in all of Thedas."

Dorian's words had come back to him at that moment-how it was so apparent that he was in love with her or some such other sort of gossipy nonsense.

It was friendship. Love didn't feel like this. He recalled it as being more intensely painful, and not quite so...easy. The swelling thing he felt must have been allergies or lyrium withdrawals.

Or, something else entirely that he did not like to think much about. Even if it were something else, it was clearly not a something that was meant for him and Lavellan.

"I don't know, Cullen. You could be in Orlais right now with the Divine- maybe with Cassandra rebuilding the Seekers. You could even go to Antiva with Josephine. I'm sure she'd have you."

"I'm sure you realise that the same applies to you." Lavellan mad e a sound of agreement.

"True. But I'd much rather visit your family. I must congratulate Mama and Papa Rutherford for their talented and also unfairly attractive son." Cullen almost stumbled on his own two feet, aghast.

 "What?" She asked, nonchalantly,

"I'm sure you're not unaware of your own charms. The gossiping nobles sure were."

Cullen felt his face heat, and he was glad that no one was in the tavern to see it .

The pair even had to pour their own drinks with whatever they could find in the store.

They drank in silence for a while, mostly because what they had poured in their cups tasted awful and the two of them had to focus on not grimacing too much.

"When do we leave, for your family's farm?"

"As soon as you like. I'm in no hurry."

"You should be, you know. Time is a luxury." She absently sipped her mug  before grimacing again.

"You keep saying that. Yet here we are." He said.

"Yet here we are. Because there is nothing to do about it. We can only wait." Cullen gave up his drink and put it aside, deciding that the horrible taste was not worth pursuing.

"We can only wait," she continued, "and go to our loved ones and all that other sentimental stuff."

Cullen did not ask her why, then, she had not made to go and visit Clan Lavellan. He had a dreadful suspicion that it had something to do with the loss of her arm.

"Which is why, I suppose, we should leave tomorrow. Or even tonight if you want. You should use all the time left to be with them."

"And you will come with me."

"Yes" she said, "I'll be with you the whole time." Cullen felt that swelling thing in his chest again, and attempted to drown it in his drink only to realise too late his error- it tasted like horse poss and he nearly spat it out on Lavellan.

"Are you alright, Cullen?" She slapped him on the back until he stopped.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'll go and pack." He said breathless.

"Of course. I'll do the same." She left him in the Tavern after they both decided that they would have an early dinner with Josephine and then leave right after.

There were tears, of course. Antivan tears mostly. Josephine didn't exactly weep but she delicately wiped her tears away with her pure Orlesian silk handkerchief.

"I will miss you both very deeply," she told them as they ate the dinner which they helped the cook make, since the old elf had refused to leave but all the other kitchen hands had. They set off soon after that.

Josephine would leave the day after them to return to Antiva.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked Lavellan as he helped her to load the last of her things.

"As I'll ever be." So the two of them set off. Cullen looked at the road ahead of him, while Lavellan looked back at Skyhold.

She wondered if the visions would cease now that she was leaving the hold.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dread Wolf in the next Chapter! Promise!


	4. Things that Happen at Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You were talking to a wolf?" he asked, not making any move at letting go.

It started as it always did, with her standing in the middle of a clearing, in the middle of a great forest-a forest with trees that had branches so vast that even in the clearing, she could not tell if it was daytime or night. It was always twilight or dusk.

The wolves were always howling somewhere far away, and their eyes were always watching, and something deep in her gut always told her that something was chasing her.

As always, she began to run in the opposite direction of the eyes and the howling - or her best guess of what was the opposite direction.

Did the concept of direction exist on the fade? Was she even in the fade? Damn him for not leaving her alone.

Damn him for dragging her into thisdream, a nightmare which knew no end.

' _The pull is mutual, you know this._ ' The voice that was like mist said, not in her ear but directly in her mind, as she ran among the trees, dodging branches and leaves and thorns and vines that seemed to coil around her legs and feet.

' _That is a lie if I've ever heard one, Dread Wolf._ ' She said the words out loud in her dream- or nightmare, whatever it was. It was so vivid that it was like life itself. It was so vivid, that she was sure that she would wake up with scratches and bruises in the morning.

' _Besides_!' she screamed, ' _don't you have a world to destroy, instead of chasing some knife-ears in some cursed dream forest?_ '

The voice that was like mist growled a distance behind her. He always did dislike it when she referred to herself as such.

 _'I did not want this, I did not want to prolong your pain.'_ She did not believe him, of course.

It had to be something on his part-she wanted to avoid him as much as possible, not to run from him every night, not to have to hear him and feel him in her sleep.

' _Yet here we are!_ ' As she ran further she wondered why it was that in the fade she never ran out of breath, or why, for that matter she had both of her arms. She wondered if she could keep on running till she made it to the edge of the forest.

Did the forest even have and end? She ran, until she saw light emerging from between the trees. She wanted to reach it.

 _'I cannot permit you to go there.'_ Teeth sank into her shoulder, a great big jaw clamping down on her and dragging her, as she was helpless with the pain of it, to the forest floor.

' _I'm sorry, Emma lath. It was meant to end with the mark.'_ The great wolf had caught up to her.

The eyes and the howling in the distance, it all belonged to one being. The great wolf with many eyes nuzzled her shoulder were it had bitten her.

' _You will not remember that it was I, when you wake up. You will only remember the wolf.'_ She felt like weeping, but didn't.

 _'I won't forget. Never.'_ She felt herself being pulled to the waking world.

Her own dark eyes-dark enough to appear black met Cullen's golden ones, eyes that somehow shone with concern, lit with the glow that the fire outside was casting.

"Lavellan...you were...you were talking to someone." Cullen was holding her almost fully in his arms. He must have been shaking her awake.

"There was a wolf-the wolf Solas" She told him, unable to remember anything else, while being aware of a dull, throbbing pain in her shoulder.

"You were talking to a wolf?" he asked, not making any move at letting go.

"I think it had something to do with his plan. He tries to make me forget but he never fully succeeds." Cullen's brow furrowed, and his arms relaxed about her-he was adjusting her back on the bedding.

"Stay." She told him on impulse. He looked like he was about to hesitate, but didn't. He reclined next to her on the bedding. She liked to sleep in the cart instead of the tent because it reminded her of the Aravels of her clan.

He insisted on sleeping outside. He still liked to insist on shem propriety whenever he could. She had to give him points for being consistent.

"Solas is up to something. That much we know," Cullen spoke in low voice.

"Yes, that we know." She said, "why are you whispering?"

"Whispering is appropriate during nightime." He said.

Leave it to Cullen to consider the appropriateness of whispers.

"There is a thing which he has yet to reveal- we do not know how he will accomplish his ends." Cullen's brow was furrowed as he spoke.

Lavellan felt a twinge of unease in the pit of her stomach.

"I know what you are trying to do, Cullen. It will not work." She turned so that they were face to face.

"What am I doing, Lavellan?"

"You're trying to get me to-to get me to fight, or something equally futile." Lavellan's own whisper rose sharply.

"Is it not my place to do so? Solas comes to you in your sleep- in your bed, for the love of Andraste! You are not safe. And you are unwilling to change."

Lavellan's entire being shook with an anger that was equally hard as it was hollow.

"Creators, are you jealous of the Dread Wolf?" Lavellan spat bitterly, knowing that the words would hurt him, but not exactly sure as to why they would, "because if it meant that it would rid me of your nagging I would gladly fuc-"

"Enough!" As long as she had known him, Cullen had never raised his voice with her as he had just done. His yell was enough to startle her to silence. He rose angrily from beside her,

"Wait-wait! I'm sorry-Cullen I'm sorry-" but it was not enough to keep him from leaving. Cullen remained outside for the rest of the night, while she remained in the back of the cart.

Neither of them slept, and neither of them spoke to the other all through the morning and we'll into the next afternoon, when they arrived at the Rutherford farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dread Wolf chapter yay! I love writing fade Solas. We'll see more of him soon.


	5. About Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She did not feel for Solas as she did for Cullen and vice versa. Solas was ethereal and Cullen was the corporeal.

Cullen had immediately left her to summon his brother, barely exchanging any words with her other than to tell her that he would need help with unloading.

Lavellan was left to the bright blue gazes of Cullen's sisters. They fretted over her-embracing her between words of 'You are just as lovely as Cullen told us you would be!' and 'oh! You use be tired from your journey.'

She tried to return their words as best she could, but it was hard to keep up with the two of them at once.

Mia, Cullen's older sister, and Rosalie, his youngest sister and the youngest of his siblings were a force one would not dare and try to resist, mostly because the Lavellan had decided that one could not possibly be rude to Cullen's sisters, as one could not possibly be rude to Cullen himself. Except that she had been the night before the epitome of what could be considered rudeness-in shem standards...and even elvhen ones.

It was simply the fact that Cullen and Solas were separate, and never allowed to mix.

She did not feel for Solas as she did for Cullen and vice versa. Solas was ethereal and Cullen was the corporeal.

Maker, Solas had been ethereal even when she had known him and touched him...and trusted him.

There was just something about Cullen that felt solid. Like he would never slip away. Regardless, such polar opposites should not mix. She didn't like that Cullen talked about Solas.

She would tell him that, she decided, as soon as she could get him to talk to her.

"Do tell," said Rosalie, "is it true that you came here from Rivain? I mean, it has to be! Your skin is lovely like olive wood!"

"Rosalie!" Mia looked embarrassed as she looked sternly at her sister. "Don't be rude."

Lavellan laughed. Mia and Rosalie bantering brought with them a pang of nostalgia-she missed her own siblings.

"It's alright, Mia." She patted smiled at Rosalie, "Yes it is true. I was born in Rivain. I went to the Marches when I was a little girl with my father."

"See Mia, I wasn't being rude." Rosalie said to her sister.

She let the two usher her into the house-they called it a house, it looked more like a small chateau. It had to be, to house Cullen's extended family.

She entered into the kitchen flanked by Mia and Rosalie, to be greeted by who she assumed were Cullen's parents and Bran's wife and young son.

"Please, sit down. I'll get you something to eat." Mia went off to the counters while she sat down between Rosalie and Bran's wife-Anne, she learned her name was.

"There was a disagreement between you and my son." Cullen's father-named Cullen as well, posed the words not as a question, but as a statement.

She almost told him to mind his own business, but it would not do to be rude to Cullen's father, especially since she was at his house, sitting at his table, about to be eating the food which was provided to her from what she assumed Cullen Sr. harvested from his land.

"Disagreements between lovers are known to happen, dear. We shouldn't pry." Cullen's mother sat next to her husband, she was just as beautiful as Lavellan imagined Cullen's mother would be- she had given him his gold gaze, especially his concerned golden gaze.

Could one inherit such a thing? From the way Cullen's mother was looking at her, she would have no choice but to say yes.

"Cullen and I are not lovers." She said, and all of them went silent and looked at her. Cullen, fared no better with his brother.

"What do you mean you've never tupped her? Not even once!" Cullen sighed as he unloaded his and Lavellan's luggage.

"We haven't 'tupped'-as you so eloquently put it, because we're not on tupping terms. We're friends."

"Friends can tup." Said Branson, adamant to maintain his point.

"Maker's breath! It's not like that, Bran. She is not the type for casual dalliances and neither am I."

Branson snorted-an ugly and unattractive sound.

"May I remind you," he said," that that is how I fell in love-first comes casual tupping, then came love and marriage, then came little Sam in a carriage."

Cullen groaned internally. There would be no convincing Bran, it seemed.

How the boy from his childhood, his own little brother had grown up into such a disgraceful lecherous skirt chaser of a man he had no idea.

All he knew was that he loved him deeply and that he had missed him terribly.

"Remind me to thank Anne for saving you from your untimely death by venereal diseases."

The two of them laughed as they entered the house, only to be greeted by the awkward silence at the dinner table.

"Maker, who died?" Cullen elbowed Bran for his atrocious manners.

Later, after dinner had been eaten and after dishes had been washed, Cullen and Lavellan proceeded to the room they found out that they would be sharing in the duration of their stay.

"This is extremely awkward and I hate it." She said, mostly becaus she wanted to break the tension.

"If you say so." He said, sitting on the bed and beginning to remove his boots. Hesitantly, she began to the same, before she remembered that she would need his help to undress.

Wordlessly, he stood, barefoot, and began to undo the buttons of her shirt.

"I'm sorry for what I said-it's just that I don't like it when you and Solas mix because he's far away and you're solid." She said in one breath. He looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

"Excuse me?"

"You're here," She said,"and you're nothing like him."

An understanding dawned on his features, and another frown.

"Do not fear Lavellan. I will not take Solas away from you. You are free to cling to him in your dreams if that is what makes you happiest."

Lavellan gaped as if she'd just been slapped.

"I will never mention him to you again, if that is what you wish." He finished undoing her buttons, and went to rest on his side of the bed. She laid down beside him after putting on her sleeping clothes.

"Your parents thought we were lovers." She told him.

Cullen did not reply.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for your viewing pleasure!   
> Also, your lovely comments replenish me so keep 'em coming!

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy the thing that I have to write because I can't get the story out of my head and also I'm still upset over Solas!
> 
> Also here is the mandatory typo warning-I literally typed this on my phone!! 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)!


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